


S'mores

by Hopeful_Romantic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:26:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Romantic/pseuds/Hopeful_Romantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth and John go camping. (Three differently rated versions posted as chapters)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PG Version

**Disclaimer:** Don't own SGA of course, else certain things would be different. I can't even imagine money being made from this thing and no copyright infringement is intended. Any similarity to any piece of fluffly fic not my own is just ~~kinda weird~~ coincidence.

The song used is just an altered version "Like Red on a Rose" sung by Alan Jackson.  
Movies quoted are "The Princess Bride" and "Say Anything"

 **Title:** S'mores  
 **Genre:** SGA drabble; sparky fluff(PG version) the NC-17 version and the PG-13 version have a hint of Teyla/Rodney if you squint just right  
 **Rating:** PG; rated for mild swear and general content  
 **Timeline:** Sometime between "The Return" and "Sunday"  


Okay, something you should know about me: I really hate abandoning fics, even when I'm not entirely comfortable/certain about what they ultimately end up being. I can abandon little plot bunnies that hop away... just not fics I have honestly tried to make a start on. *shrug* *sigh* Ah well...

That's(points up) just a way to warn you about what follows. I snurched a prompt about camping(Sparky-centric) and wrote a little piece of fluff about it. It tried to have a second part, and even a third, but the silly thing just... well let's just say it was the first fic I ever really tried to walk away from, and well, I couldn't do it in the end. So what follows is the first of three versions of the fluff. Now, they are still all essentially the same story, they just vary in rating. The one that immediately follows is the PG, fluffly, fluffly version. There is also a NC-17 version(fluffy smut) And finally there is a PG-13 version(the same thing as the smut version- minus the smut *grin*)

Anyhoo: here goes:

 

* * *

 

 **John Sheppard set** down his guitar case and dropped a small duffle at his feet as he stood in the open doorway of Elizabeth Weir’s office.

“So…” he drawled. “You ready?”

Elizabeth looked up from her laptop, a bemused expression coloring her face.

John gave her grin. “You didn’t forget did you?” At Elizabeth’s look, John tapped his watch. “1800 hours; work stops; camping trip begins.”

“Ahh…” Dr. Weir replied. “No Colonel, I did not forget. I simply never agreed to a camping trip,” she reminded him in a friendly tone.

John gave her a lop-sided grin and wandered over to Elizabeth’s desk. He stepped behind her chair and leaned over her shoulder to read the open laptop screen. _“There appears to be a dedicated section of the Ancient database devoted to the application of an advanced string theory as it applies to the Ascension process. The difficulty comes with the current translation programs that we are using to decipher the Ancient language, as they seem to being having trouble with the form of Ancient being used. We would like to request your assistance to further translate…”_ John read aloud before trailing off slowly.

“Well, that can wait,” John said confidently, and boldly closed the laptop. Elizabeth gave her military commander a mild glare.

“What do you think you’re doing, Colonel?”

“1800 hours; you’re done with work, Elizabeth, and now it’s time for a day off. When was the last time you took any time for yourself?”

“Colonel,” Elizabeth responded in soft warning.

John gave her a cocky grin. “Don’t make me drag you out of here, Elizabeth. Or worse,” he drawled, “get Carson in here. You know I will.”

Dr. Weir gave her military commander a measuring look that John returned with a steady eye. “You know I will, Elizabeth,” he repeated in a low, gently determined voice.

Ever so slowly, the Atlantean leader relented, finally giving a quiet sigh in acknowledgment  
of John’s persistence. The Colonel gave her a boyish grin and stepped back so that Elizabeth could rise out of her chair. She reached for her laptop, but John set his hand atop hers and gently caressed the warm skin beneath his thumb.

“No work,” he insisted softly.

For a moment, it was in Elizabeth’s eyes to protest, but then she sighed softly. John gave her hand a final caress before removing his.

“Come on, let’s go get your stuff,” the Colonel prompted, before walking over to retrieve his things from the doorway.

Elizabeth nodded briefly and together they walked in silence to her quarters.

“So what exactly do I need for this camping trip, Colonel?” Dr. Weir asked as John followed her into her room.

“Just some comfortable clothes and a willingness to relax and enjoy yourself for a few hours,” John answered with a bright grin.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in response. “I can assume everything else is taken care of then, Colonel?”

“You _could_ assume that,” John responded cheekily.

The Atlantean leader shook her head slightly with the familiar and fond exasperation that her military commander often seemed to inspire.

“Teyla says that it has been raining rather constantly over on the mainland,” Elizabeth said while considering a heavy sweater. “I’m not sure how appealing camping in the rain sounds.”

“Rain won’t be a problem,” John assured her.

“We shouldn’t go off-world for this excursion, John,” Elizabeth insisted quickly.

“Trust me, Elizabeth,” the military commander responded simply. “Trust me,” he repeated with a smile meant to charm in reply to a look from the Atlantean leader.

Dr. Weir made no further response as she continued to pack, allowing John to take the opportunity to look around her quarters. Casually, he brushed his hand over books gathered on small shelves and tables, taking note of their titles. They seemed to be mostly history books or political treatises, as well as a few select Ancient texts. He also found a worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ tucked away amongst the other volumes, and he smiled to see a leather bound edition of Keats poetry nestled between two Ancient books.

His gaze then fell to a small collection of photos gathered on an Atlantean desk similar to the one in her office. Here were pictures of her family and friends, mostly those from Earth, but there were also a few of her family in Atlantis. John picked up one of a brightly smiling Teyla standing with Ronon, the warrior displaying his own almost rare smile.

“Will I need heavy boots?”

John looked up from the photos with a smile and a non-committal shrug, giving nothing away.

“I have no desire to have my feet freeze, Colonel,” she said before making a small pause, “or any other body part for that matter.”

“I’m sure that we can find some way to keep your feet warm, ‘Lizabeth,” John teased. “Or any other body part,” he added with a playful grin as he walked over to where she stood by her bed.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she looked over to him and John laughed lightly in response.

“Your normal shoes should be fine,” he assured her. The Colonel turned back to his quiet exploration as Elizabeth continued to pack the small duffle on her bed. He let his fingers trail over the delicate statues and vases he found, occasionally picking one up as he often did when in Elizabeth’s office. But he stopped when he found an unframed picture and a delicate dried flower tucked unobtrusively in amongst the Atlantean leader’s other person items.

Glancing quickly back in Elizabeth’s direction then back to the photo, he picked it and the flower up in a gentle hand. It took John a moment, but he recognized the picture finally as one that Carson had taken at the celebration party shortly after they had all returned to Atlantis. In it, Elizabeth and John were dancing, and as the military commander studied the picture, he couldn’t help but be struck by how happy both he and the Atlantean leader appeared to be.

He looked over to Elizabeth again and then turned his attention back to the small red flower in his hand. He twirled the stem thoughtfully between his fingers, thinking about when he had presented the small bloom to Elizabeth. He hadn’t known that she had kept it, and the idea that she had, did something to his pulse. Then John heard the zipper of Elizabeth’s duffle and he quickly put the flower back down.

“Ready then?” he asked as he turned to his friend.

“Well, ready as I can be, without knowing where we’re going,” she hinted, but John only smiled and retrieved his things.

“We’re off then.”

Elizabeth shook her head slightly and walked out of her quarters with him. But when they didn’t walk in the direction of either the Gateroom or the Jumper bay, Elizabeth looked curiously to John as he walked next to her. He smiled and lead her to a transport.

“I told you that you wouldn’t have to worry about the rain.”

“John, you can’t be serious, we’re going camping in Atlantis?”

“Well, as you said, we shouldn’t really go off-world, and it is raining all over on the mainland.” He gave her a charming grin. “So, camping in Atlantis,” he drawled.

The transport left them looking out into an unfamiliar hallway.

“This way.”

John lead Elizabeth down the corridor and to a closed door. He waved his hand over the blue control crystals and the door opened up onto a large domed room. In the center of the chamber, were two small camping tents and a circle of stones with what looked like wood set for a fire. All around the room, were potted plants of varying sizes, giving the chamber as much of the look of the outdoors as possible.

John grinned and walked over to a crystal panel, waving a hand over it. Above, the domed ceiling glittered with the image of a nighttime sky full of stars.

Elizabeth looked around with a quiet smile. “You did all this?” she asked softly. She looked up. “It’s lovely.”

“All the fun of the outdoors,” he said with a grin, “with none of the bugs or rain.”

Elizabeth gave a small laugh and looked around, clearly touched by the gesture.

“And,” John said as he walked over to the stone circle, “we even have a campfire.” He set down his duffle and his guitar case before lighting the canned heat placed safely within the cleared center of the stones and firewood. “Perfect for campfire stories, and songs,” he explained. “Or,” he drawled as he reached for something from his bag, “s’mores.” He held up a bag of marshmallows, a package of graham crackers, and a couple of chocolate bars.

“And you don’t want to know what I had to give Rodney for this stuff.” He opened the bag of marshmallows.

“I’ve never actually had s’mores,” Elizabeth confessed as she joined John by the campfire, setting her duffle down next to his.

The Colonel gave her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding. How can you have never had s’mores? Next you’re going to tell me you never went camping as a kid either.”

Elizabeth shrugged lightly.

“You’re not kidding.” John shook his head slightly. “Well then, I don’t feel quite as bad about what I had to do to wrangle this stuff from, McKay. We can’t allow this to continue; you never having had a s’more.”

John deftly skewered a marshmallow on a stick. “Now,” he began. “First, you have to toast the marshmallow to a nice golden brown.” He proceeded to demonstrate.

“Then,” he continued, “you have to slide the marshmallow off of the stick and onto your graham cracker with the chocolate. That’s the tricky part.”

Elizabeth smiled as she watched John, amused by the intense look of concentration on his face.

“And _ta da_ , you have your first s’more.” He grinned as if he had just completed a culinary masterpiece. “Here,” he offered her the treat. “Go on, you’ll love it,” he assured her when she looked at the s’more somewhat dubiously.

Slowly, she took a small bite and smiled when the warm chocolate melted over her tongue. “It is good.” She took another bite and John found himself suddenly fascinated with Elizabeth’s mouth and the quick darts of her tongue. Then, impulsively, he reached over to brush at her lip where there was a small bit of melted chocolate. For a moment, his thumb lingered on her lower lip as her eyes caught and held his.

“Chocolate,” John explained in a somewhat husky voice as he removed his hand.

“Oh,” Elizabeth half spoke, half sighed.

The Colonel shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it, and Elizabeth herself took a few quick deep breathes. She licked her lips, and John watched with wide eyes, almost overwhelmingly moved by the gesture.

He felt the urge to reach over to Elizabeth again and before he could follow through with the persistent impulse, he ducked his eyes away. “Umm, campfire stories next?” John asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I’ve _seen_ your campfire stories, Colonel…” Elizabeth replied, catching gracefully at the turn in the conversation. “ _Friday the Thirteenth_ … or will it be _The Princess Bride_?” She said with a smile, reminding him of the times that he had entertained the Athosian children.

“Classics,” John insisted before suddenly taking on a comically serious pose. “Wuv…twue wuv… is what bwings us toogewether today,” he quoted happily.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” he laughed. “Okay… no campfire stories.”

For a few moments then, they sat in a building silence, slowly returning to an intense awareness of each other until John asked, “If you didn’t have s’mores as a kid, or go camping, what _did_ little Lizzie do?”

“For one thing, I wasn’t called little Lizzie,” Elizabeth replied with a slight grin.

“Oh?” John asked, obviously curious.

“My father liked to take me to museums, art galleries, and libraries,” Elizabeth’s smile turned fond with remembrance.

“Libraries?” John asked with amusement.

The Atlantean leader turned to look at him. “Yes, libraries,” she replied with a soft smile curving her lips. “He liked to share his love of art, history, and language with me. And he was a diplomat, so there was really only so much time that we could spend together. Our trips were his way of showing me how much he loved me, even when he couldn’t say it.”

John watched Elizabeth, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I still remember when he was working in Paris and took me to the Orangerie Museum. We saw one of Monet’s paintings of the water lilies.” Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I couldn’t have been more than five or six, and the painting was just begging to be touched.”

John grinned, imagining a small Elizabeth, boldly reaching for the priceless painting with a small, curious hand.

“He stopped me of course, but after that, my father called me, Lily. And when he started to do that, the rest of my family and close friends did too.” She paused, silent for a moment, before saying softly, “But no one has called me Lily since he died. Sometimes I miss it. Sometimes, it feels like Elizabeth is… who I _have_ to be, and Lily is…” she trailed off softly before looking over to John.

“But you,” she prompted, deftly turning the attention to her military commander. “While I was busy visiting art museums as a child,” she grinned, “you were learning how to camp and make s’mores?” She looked over to the waiting guitar case a moment, before looking back to John, “And to play?”

John gave her a boyish grin.

“You did mention campfire songs,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“I did,” he agreed.

She settled back, waiting patiently. Eventually, John gave her one of his customary grins and reached for the guitar case. Almost reverently, he opened it and took out his instrument. Settling it carefully in his lap, he placed his fingers to the frets.

“My brother was pretty good, and he’s the one that taught me,” John offered a bit of his own history. “But keep in mind, I’m no Johnny Cash,” he warned her with a lop-sided smile.

“Duly noted, Colonel,” Elizabeth responded lightly.

Slowly, John began to play. At first there was no real melody, just soft chords and notes as he let his fingers wander, as if seeking out the song. But as Elizabeth listened, the random harmonies started to form themselves into a quiet, simple tune. And she watched John’s fingers, finding herself almost mesmerized by their previously unnoticed grace. It was unexpectedly moving, to watch his hands coax the sweetly romantic melody from his guitar. And unbidden, the thought of what else he might do with those hands brought a deep, warm feeling to the flutter in her stomach and suffused her limbs with a languid sort of heat.

Then he began to sing, and Elizabeth’s eyes moved almost instinctively to John’s lips.

“ _Like red on a rose_ ,” he sang softly, his voice deep, almost caressing the notes. “ _When your lips first smiled at me_.”

Elizabeth couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of John’s mouth. His wasn’t a pitch perfect voice, but what John lacked in such perfection, he more than made up for in tenderness and truth.

“ _I fell so easily, wishing you were my own_ ,” the words tumbled from his lips with a soft country melody. “ _Like green in the sea, when your eyes looked at me_.”

Elizabeth’s ocean green eyes flew upwards to meet John’s. He returned her look without any hesitation. “ _And touched something deep inside. Then let the truth be known… That I love you, like only the springtime loves the rain. And I love you, ‘cause I know that I can’t do anything wrong. You’re where I belong, like red on a rose_.”

Elizabeth finally ducked her eyes away from John, overwhelmed by the clear and honest emotion in his eyes. She watched his hands instead as they deftly played along the strings, finding the notes with unerring grace.

“ _And I love you, like only the springtime loves the rain. And I love you, like a wanderer finding his way home. And I love you, ‘cause I know you give me a heart of my own_.”

John’s voice dropped low and very intimate, drawing Elizabeth’s eyes back up to his own “ _You make my blood flow… like red on a rose… like red on a rose_.”

“John?” Elizabeth asked softly with an almost uncertain and uncharacteristically hesitant note to her voice.

John’s fingers stilled on the strings of his guitar and he set it aside. “Elizabeth,” he said quietly. “Elizabeth, I think I need to kiss you now.” He waited a moment, then reached for her, cradling her face gently in his hands. “I need to kiss you,” he breathed along her skin.

And then, he did.

For a moment, there was nothing but stillness, and then, in an instant, everything was happening at once. John was pulling Elizabeth to him. She was reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair. His heart was thundering in his chest, and her pulse was racing to match itself to his. They were suddenly each breathing the other in, near desperate to express everything all at once.

It wasn’t enough.

It was too much.

“John,” Elizabeth gasped finally. “John…”

She pushed gently against him, her palms flat on his chest. And John pulled back, looking at her with passion dazed eyes.

“Elizabeth,” he responded breathlessly, holding her now dark green gaze with his own. “Elizabeth, are you… why are you…”

“No,” John said suddenly. “No,” John reached for her as Elizabeth started to pull away, holding her gently, but firmly in place. “You want this as much as I do.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, John.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” he said fiercely. “Because you have to know that this doesn’t just come around everyday.”

“This?” Elizabeth asked, her voice a tumult of hope and trepidation.

“This,” John said before slowly pulling her to him and cradling her face in his hands. “This,” he murmured again, resting his forehead against hers. “And don’t tell me that it doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me that you don’t need it, want it, every bit as much as I do, because even you can’t convince me of that.”

For a moment they remained like that, and then John whispered, almost too softly for Elizabeth to hear, “I love you.” He held onto her in silence, nearly trembling.

“Love, true love, is what brings us together, today,” Elizabeth quoted finally in a quiet, giddy voice.

For a moment, there was silence again. Then suddenly, John laughed in an almost overwhelming release of emotion. When it finally passed, the Colonel pulled Elizabeth into a tight embrace, whispering into her hair, “Yes…oh, yes…”

The Atlantean leader gave a brief, giddy laugh before saying in a serious gasp, “Oh God, this is going to be so unbelievably complicated.”

John pulled back slightly so that he could look into her eyes. “Not in the things that really matter.”

“Not in the things that really matter,” she agreed, kissing him.

“This is the best camping trip ever,” John said with a cocky grin when they finally took a moment to breathe.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head fondly, before giving into the impulse to laugh lightly, “John…”

He gave her a questioning look.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“As you wish…”


	2. PG-13 Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PG-13 Version

The one that immediately follows is the PG-13 rated one (same thing as the smut version- minus the smut *grin*) 

Anyhoo: here goes:

* * *

 **John Sheppard set** down his guitar case and dropped a small duffle at his feet as he stood in the open doorway of Elizabeth Weir’s office.

“So…” he drawled. “You ready?”

Elizabeth looked up from her laptop, a bemused expression coloring her face.

John gave her grin. “You didn’t forget did you?” At Elizabeth’s look, John tapped his watch. “1800 hours; work stops; camping trip begins.” 

“Ahh…” Dr. Weir replied. “No Colonel, I did not forget. I simply never agreed to a camping trip,” she reminded him in a friendly tone.

John gave her a lop-sided grin and wandered over to Elizabeth’s desk. He stepped behind her chair and leaned over her shoulder to read the open laptop screen. _“There appears to be a dedicated section of the Ancient database devoted to the application of an advanced string theory as it applies to the Ascension process. The difficulty comes with the current translation programs that we are using to decipher the Ancient language, as they seem to being having trouble with the form of Ancient being used. We would like to request your assistance to further translate…”_ John read aloud before trailing off slowly.

“Well, that can wait,” John said confidently, and boldly closed the laptop. Elizabeth gave her military commander a mild glare. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Colonel?”

“1800 hours; you’re done with work, Elizabeth, and now it’s time for a day off. When was the last time you took any time for yourself?”

“Colonel,” Elizabeth responded in soft warning.

John gave her a cocky grin. “Don’t make me drag you out of here, Elizabeth. Or worse,” he drawled, “get Carson in here. You know I will.” 

Dr. Weir gave her military commander a measuring look that John returned with a steady eye. “You know I will, Elizabeth,” he repeated in a low, gently determined voice. 

Ever so slowly, the Atlantean leader relented, finally giving a quiet sigh in acknowledgment   
of John’s persistence. The Colonel gave her a boyish grin and stepped back so that Elizabeth could rise out of her chair. She reached for her laptop, but John set his hand atop hers and gently caressed the warm skin beneath his thumb. 

“No work,” he insisted softly. 

For a moment, it was in Elizabeth’s eyes to protest, but then she sighed softly. John gave her hand a final caress before removing his.

“Come on, let’s go get your stuff,” the Colonel prompted, before walking over to retrieve his things from the doorway.

Elizabeth nodded briefly and together they walked in silence to her quarters.

“So what exactly do I need for this camping trip, Colonel?” Dr. Weir asked as John followed her into her room.

“Just some comfortable clothes and a willingness to relax and enjoy yourself for a few hours,” John answered with a bright grin.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in response. “I can assume everything else is taken care of then, Colonel?”

“You _could_ assume that,” John responded cheekily. 

The Atlantean leader shook her head slightly with the familiar and fond exasperation that her military commander often seemed to inspire. 

“Teyla says that it has been raining rather constantly over on the mainland,” Elizabeth said while considering a heavy sweater. “I’m not sure how appealing camping in the rain sounds.”

“Rain won’t be a problem,” John assured her. 

“We shouldn’t go off-world for this excursion, John,” Elizabeth insisted quickly. 

“Trust me, Elizabeth,” the military commander responded simply. “Trust me,” he repeated with a smile meant to charm in reply to a look from the Atlantean leader. 

Dr. Weir made no further response as she continued to pack, allowing John to take the opportunity to look around her quarters. Casually, he brushed his hand over books gathered on small shelves and tables, taking note of their titles. They seemed to be mostly history books or political treatises, as well as a few select Ancient texts. He also found a worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ tucked away amongst the other volumes, and he smiled to see a leather bound edition of Keats poetry nestled between two Ancient books. 

His gaze then fell to a small collection of photos gathered on an Atlantean desk similar to the one in her office. Here were pictures of her family and friends, mostly those from Earth, but there were also a few of her family in Atlantis. John picked up one of a brightly smiling Teyla standing with Ronon, the warrior displaying his own almost rare smile. 

“Will I need heavy boots?”

John looked up from the photos with a smile and a non-committal shrug, giving nothing away.

“I have no desire to have my feet freeze, Colonel,” she said before making a small pause, “or any other body part for that matter.”

“I’m sure that we can find some way to keep your feet warm, ‘Lizabeth,” John teased. “Or any other body part,” he added with a playful grin as he walked over to where she stood by her bed. 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she looked over to him and John laughed lightly in response. 

“Your normal shoes should be fine,” he assured her. The Colonel turned back to his quiet exploration as Elizabeth continued to pack the small duffle on her bed. He let his fingers trail over the delicate statues and vases he found, occasionally picking one up as he often did when in Elizabeth’s office. But he stopped when he found an unframed picture and a delicate dried flower tucked unobtrusively in amongst the Atlantean leader’s other person items. 

Glancing quickly back in Elizabeth’s direction then back to the photo, he picked it and the flower up in a gentle hand. It took John a moment, but he recognized the picture finally as one that Carson had taken at the celebration party shortly after they had all returned to Atlantis. In it, Elizabeth and John were dancing, and as the military commander studied the picture, he couldn’t help but be struck by how happy both he and the Atlantean leader appeared to be. 

He looked over to Elizabeth again and then turned his attention back to the small red flower in his hand. He twirled the stem thoughtfully between his fingers, thinking about when he had presented the small bloom to Elizabeth. He hadn’t known that she had kept it, and the idea that she had, did something to his pulse. Then John heard the zipper of Elizabeth’s duffle and he quickly put the flower back down. 

“Ready then?” he asked as he turned to his friend. 

“Well, ready as I can be, without knowing where we’re going,” she hinted, but John only smiled and retrieved his things. 

“We’re off then.”

Elizabeth shook her head slightly and walked out of her quarters with him. But when they didn’t walk in the direction of either the Gateroom or the Jumper bay, Elizabeth looked curiously to John as he walked next to her. He smiled and lead her to a transport.

“I told you that you wouldn’t have to worry about the rain.”

“John, you can’t be serious, we’re going camping in Atlantis?”

“Well, as you said, we shouldn’t really go off-world, and it is raining all over on the mainland.” He gave her a charming grin. “So, camping in Atlantis,” he drawled. 

The transport left them looking out into an unfamiliar hallway.

“This way.”

John lead Elizabeth down the corridor and to a closed door. He waved his hand over the blue control crystals and the door opened up onto a large domed room. In the center of the chamber, were two small camping tents and a circle of stones with what looked like wood set for a fire. All around the room, were potted plants of varying sizes, giving the chamber as much of the look of the outdoors as possible.

John grinned and walked over to a crystal panel, waving a hand over it. Above, the domed ceiling glittered with the image of a nighttime sky full of stars. 

Elizabeth looked around with a quiet smile. “You did all this?” she asked softly. She looked up. “It’s lovely.”

“All the fun of the outdoors,” he said with a grin, “with none of the bugs or rain.”

Elizabeth gave a small laugh and looked around, clearly touched by the gesture. 

“And,” John said as he walked over to the stone circle, “we even have a campfire.” He set down his duffle and his guitar case before lighting the canned heat placed safely within the cleared center of the stones and firewood. “Perfect for campfire stories, and songs,” he explained. “Or,” he drawled as he reached for something from his bag, “s’mores.” He held up a bag of marshmallows, a package of graham crackers, and a couple of chocolate bars.

“And you don’t want to know what I had to give Rodney for this stuff.” He opened the bag of marshmallows.

“I’ve never actually had s’mores,” Elizabeth confessed as she joined John by the campfire, setting her duffle down next to his.

The Colonel gave her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding. How can you have never had s’mores? Next you’re going to tell me you never went camping as a kid either.”

Elizabeth shrugged lightly.

“You’re not kidding.” John shook his head slightly. “Well then, I don’t feel quite as bad about what I had to do to wrangle this stuff from, McKay. We can’t allow this to continue; you never having had a s’more.”

John deftly skewered a marshmallow on a stick. “Now,” he began. “First, you have to toast the marshmallow to a nice golden brown.” He proceeded to demonstrate.

“Then,” he continued, “you have to slide the marshmallow off of the stick and onto your graham cracker with the chocolate. That’s the tricky part.” 

Elizabeth smiled as she watched John, amused by the intense look of concentration on his face.

“And _ta da_ , you have your first s’more.” He grinned as if he had just completed a culinary masterpiece. “Here,” he offered her the treat. “Go on, you’ll love it,” he assured her when she looked at the s’more somewhat dubiously. 

Slowly, she took a small bite and smiled when the warm chocolate melted over her tongue. “It is good.” She took another bite and John found himself suddenly fascinated with Elizabeth’s mouth and the quick darts of her tongue. Then, impulsively, he reached over to brush at her lip where there was a small bit of melted chocolate. For a moment, his thumb lingered on her lower lip as her eyes caught and held his. 

“Chocolate,” John explained in a somewhat husky voice as he removed his hand.

“Oh,” Elizabeth half spoke, half sighed. 

The Colonel shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it, and Elizabeth herself took a few quick deep breathes. She licked her lips, and John watched with wide eyes, almost overwhelmingly moved by the gesture. 

He felt the urge to reach over to Elizabeth again and before he could follow through with the persistent impulse, he ducked his eyes away. “Umm, campfire stories next?” John asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“I’ve _seen_ your campfire stories, Colonel…” Elizabeth replied, catching gracefully at the turn in the conversation. “ _Friday the Thirteenth_ … or will it be _The Princess Bride_?” She said with a smile, reminding him of the times that he had entertained the Athosian children.

“Classics,” John insisted before suddenly taking on a comically serious pose. “Wuv…twue wuv… is what bwings us toogewether today,” he quoted happily. 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay,” he laughed. “Okay… no campfire stories.”

For a few moments then, they sat in a building silence, slowly returning to an intense awareness of each other until John asked, “If you didn’t have s’mores as a kid, or go camping, what _did_ little Lizzie do?”

“For one thing, I wasn’t called little Lizzie,” Elizabeth replied with a slight grin. 

“Oh?” John asked, obviously curious.

“My father liked to take me to museums, art galleries, and libraries,” Elizabeth’s smile turned fond with remembrance. 

“Libraries?” John asked with amusement.

The Atlantean leader turned to look at him. “Yes, libraries,” she replied with a soft smile curving her lips. “He liked to share his love of art, history, and language with me. And he was a diplomat, so there was really only so much time that we could spend together. Our trips were his way of showing me how much he loved me, even when he couldn’t say it.”

John watched Elizabeth, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I still remember when he was working in Paris and took me to the Orangerie Museum. We saw one of Monet’s paintings of the water lilies.” Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I couldn’t have been more than five or six, and the painting was just begging to be touched.”

John grinned, imagining a small Elizabeth, boldly reaching for the priceless painting with a small, curious hand.

“He stopped me of course, but after that, my father called me, Lily. And when he started to do that, the rest of my family and close friends did too.” She paused, silent for a moment, before saying softly, “But no one has called me Lily since he died. Sometimes I miss it. Sometimes, it feels like Elizabeth is… who I _have_ to be, and Lily is…” she trailed off softly before looking over to John.

“But you,” she prompted, deftly turning the attention to her military commander. “While I was busy visiting art museums as a child,” she grinned, “you were learning how to camp and make s’mores?” She looked over to the waiting guitar case a moment, before looking back to John, “And to play?”

John gave her a boyish grin. 

“You did mention campfire songs,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“I did,” he agreed. 

She settled back, waiting patiently. Eventually, John gave her one of his customary grins and reached for the guitar case. Almost reverently, he opened it and took out his instrument. Settling it carefully in his lap, he placed his fingers to the frets. 

“My brother was pretty good, and he’s the one that taught me,” John offered a bit of his own history. “But keep in mind, I’m no Johnny Cash,” he warned her with a lop-sided smile.

“Duly noted, Colonel,” Elizabeth responded lightly. 

Slowly, John began to play. At first there was no real melody, just soft chords and notes as he let his fingers wander, as if seeking out the song. But as Elizabeth listened, the random harmonies started to form themselves into a quiet, simple tune. And she watched John’s fingers, finding herself almost mesmerized by their previously unnoticed grace. It was unexpectedly moving, to watch his hands coax the sweetly romantic melody from his guitar. And unbidden, the thought of what else he might do with those hands brought a deep, warm feeling to the flutter in her stomach and suffused her limbs with a languid sort of heat. 

Then he began to sing, and Elizabeth’s eyes moved almost instinctively to John’s lips. 

“ _Like red on a rose_ ,” he sang softly, his voice deep, almost caressing the notes. “ _When your lips first smiled at me_.”

Elizabeth couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of John’s mouth. His wasn’t a pitch perfect voice, but what John lacked in such perfection, he more than made up for in tenderness and truth. 

“ _I fell so easily, wishing you were my own_ ,” the words tumbled from his lips with a soft country melody. “ _Like green in the sea, when your eyes looked at me_.”

Elizabeth’s ocean green eyes flew upwards to meet John’s. He returned her look without any hesitation. “ _And touched something deep inside. Then let the truth be known… That I love you, like only the springtime loves the rain. And I love you, ‘cause I know that I can’t do anything wrong. You’re where I belong, like red on a rose_.”

Elizabeth finally ducked her eyes away from John, overwhelmed by the clear and honest emotion in his eyes. She watched his hands instead as they deftly played along the strings, finding the notes with unerring grace. 

“ _And I love you, like only the springtime loves the rain. And I love you, like a wanderer finding his way home. And I love you, ‘cause I know you give me a heart of my own_.” 

John’s voice dropped low and very intimate, drawing Elizabeth’s eyes back up to his own “ _You make my blood flow… like red on a rose… like red on a rose_.”

“John?” Elizabeth asked softly with an almost uncertain and uncharacteristically hesitant note to her voice. 

John’s fingers stilled on the strings of his guitar and he set it aside. “Elizabeth,” he said quietly. “Elizabeth, I think I need to kiss you now.” He waited a moment, then reached for her, cradling her face gently in his hands. “I need to kiss you,” he breathed along her skin.

And then, he did. 

For a moment, there was nothing but stillness, and then, in an instant, everything was happening at once. John was pulling Elizabeth to him. She was reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair. His heart was thundering in his chest, and her pulse was racing to match itself to his. They were suddenly each breathing the other in, near desperate to express everything all at once. 

It wasn’t enough.

It was too much.

“John,” Elizabeth gasped finally. “John…”

She pushed gently against him, her palms flat on his chest. And John pulled back, looking at her with passion dazed eyes.

“Elizabeth,” he responded breathlessly, holding her now dark green gaze with his own. “Elizabeth, are you… why are you…”

“No,” John said suddenly. “No,” John reached for her as Elizabeth started to pull away, holding her gently, but firmly in place. “You want this as much as I do.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, John.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” he said fiercely. “Because you have to know that this doesn’t just come around everyday.”

“This?” Elizabeth asked, her voice a tumult of hope and trepidation.

“This,” John said before slowly pulling her to him and cradling her face in his hands. “This,” he murmured again, resting his forehead against hers. “And don’t tell me that it doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me that you don’t need it, want it, every bit as much as I do, because even you can’t convince me of that.” 

For a moment they remained like that, and then John whispered, almost too softly for Elizabeth to hear, “I love you.” He held onto her in silence, nearly trembling.

“Love, true love, is what brings us together, today,” Elizabeth quoted finally in a quiet, giddy voice. 

For a moment, there was silence again. Then suddenly, John laughed in an almost overwhelming release of emotion. When it finally passed, the Colonel pulled Elizabeth into a tight embrace, whispering into her hair, “Yes…oh, yes…”

The Atlantean leader gave a brief, giddy laugh before saying in a serious gasp, “Oh God, this is going to be so unbelievably complicated.” 

John pulled back slightly so that he could look into her eyes. “Not in the things that really matter.” 

“Not in the things that really matter,” she agreed, kissing him. 

“This is the best camping trip ever,” John said with a cocky grin when they finally took a moment to breathe.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head fondly, before giving into the impulse to laugh lightly, “John…”

He gave her a questioning look. 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“As you wish…”

* * *

 **The warm morning** light danced around her as Elizabeth sighed softly and her eyes fell shut She felt her hand loosen its tenuous grip on the rolled sleeping bag that she held. It hit the floor near her feet with a soft thump, as unnoticed as the rest of the half-packed campsite around her. John knelt in front of her, his hands splayed on her hips as he nosed aside the red fabric of her shirt. But the pair froze when they heard Rodney’s muffled voice just outside of the door.

“Sheppard?”

Elizabeth felt, more than heard John swear, his breath warm against her stomach. 

“Elizabeth?”

The Atlantean leader held back her own swear as she heard Dr. McKay’s call. 

“Are you in there?”

“Don’t say anything, maybe he’ll go away,” John suggested.

“John, we should…” Elizabeth began to reply before suddenly gasping as John’s tongue circled her navel. She buried her hands in his unruly, dark hair, her gasp becoming a quiet moan. But she stopped him as he started to lift the fabric of her shirt up higher. 

“John…”

He rose, meeting Elizabeth’s passion darkened eyes.

“He’ll go away,” the colonel insisted, coaxing her into a kiss.

“Major Lorne said that he thought he saw you both come this way last night for your little camping trip,” Dr. McKay called again from the other side of the gym door.

“John… he’s not… going away…” Elizabeth said between kisses.

“He… will…” 

“It could be important,” the Atlantean leader insisted.

“It’s not,” her lover assured her, grasping Elizabeth’s hips and pulling her tight against him.

“How do you…” she half-gasped as John trailed his kisses to her ear, nipping the lobe lightly.

“He doesn’t have _‘panicked Rodney voice_ ,” the colonel answered her half asked question. “Just, _‘impatient McKay voice_ ,” he explained before rocking his hips against hers and muffling her moan with a kiss. 

“He’s probably wrong of course,” Rodney called as loudly as he could in the distance.

John walked Elizabeth to a nearby wall, pressing her back against it. He slid his hands into hers and brought her arms up above her head. His hips continued to rock against hers and she moved with him, sliding a leg up and wrapping it around him. 

“He’ll go away,” John repeated before bringing his lips to Elizabeth’s neck.

She bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan. 

“And if you were really in there, you’d answer, right?” Dr. McKay’s muffled voice continued. 

Elizabeth tilted her head, giving John better access, even as she knew that what he was doing was almost assuredly going to leave a mark. 

“I want you,” John murmured against her warm skin. He slipped his hands from hers and slid them down her arms. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” Elizabeth responded.

“Like I said, too long.”

John’s warm touch trailed down her sides and to the hem of her shirt. He slipped his fingertips under the fabric. The rest of his hands followed, moving up her sides to caress her lace covered breasts.

“Unless you were hurt somehow,” Rodney called abruptly. Suddenly, John and Elizabeth froze again as they heard loud noises from the other side of the gym door. “Are you hurt?” Even muffled, his voice took on a slight note of panic. 

“The door’s not opening.” From the outside, they heard more loud sounds as if Rodney were now working on the door mechanism. 

“He’s going to open the door,” Elizabeth said.

“We disabled it,” John countered.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, then turned wide eyes in the direction of the door as it slid open the fraction of an inch. “Oh God.”

They leapt away from each other, desperately trying to set themselves to rights.

“Sheppard?” Rodney called, his voice louder now that the door was opening slowly. “Elizabeth?” He practically ran into the room as the door suddenly opened. “Are you two…” Rodney began to ask in a worried voice, “…okay?” His voice trailed off as he saw the pair and slowed to a stop.

Elizabeth tried to straighten her shirt as surreptitiously as possible. “Of course, Rodney.”

Dr. McKay eyed the pair. “The door wasn’t opening,” he said unnecessarily. 

“Well, it’s fixed now, and since you’re here McKay, how ‘bout leading a hand with all this stuff?” John said, trying to cover. 

Colonel Sheppard scooped a rolled sleeping bag up and tossed it in Rodney’s direction. The astrophysicist fumbled with it a bit before finally getting a hold of one of the ties. He glared in John’s direction a moment.

John flashed him a friendly grin. “Thanks, McKay.” 

Rodney muttered something underneath his breath, but proceeded to help gather up the camping gear…

* * *

 **“And there was** a mark on her neck,” Rodney elaborated, gesturing vaguely to indicate the spot somewhere on his own neck.

“Rodney,” Teyla chided in a mild tone. “I am not certain that we should be discussing this. Whatever may or may not have happened last night is between John and Elizabeth.”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? There’s always been something between them. I mean, even Zalenka sees it. And Kate, Dr. Heightmeyer, she says that there are sparks whenever they’re in a room together.”

“Rodney…” the Athosian leader tried once more.

“I’m just saying…”

“Why does it matter so much to you, McKay?” Ronon asked, interrupting him.

“What?” 

“Why do you care so much? What does it matter if something happened between them last night? It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Teyla gave Ronon a look.

“What?” he asked, shrugging. “McKay’s right.”

Rodney suddenly developed a very smug expression. 

“We all know they’ve been dancing around each other for years, at least they have been ever since I’ve been here.”

“Since they met,” Rodney asserted. “Since Antarctica, I’m certain.”

“The point is, what does it matter to you?”

Even Teyla had begun to look quietly interested in her teammate’s answer.

“Well… I… that is…” Dr. McKay tripped over his words. “Anyone could see…”

Rodney half-ducked his head. “Because it gives me hope,” he mumbled almost underneath his breath. 

“What?” Teyla prompted despite herself. 

Rodney looked back up. “Because it gives me hope, okay?” He repeated in a rush of breath, clearly uncomfortable with his unexpected confession. “They belong together, we’ve all seen it for years. And if they’ve finally seen it… finally let themselves…” He trailed off when he met Teyla’s dark eyes. “It just gives me hope.” He looked away after a moment. 

Ronon made a small sound of amusement. “Who would have thought you were a romantic, McKay.” 

“If I am,” he countered, “I’m not the only one. I have it on good authority that a certain Satedan was seen helping Colonel Sheppard move several potted plants through the corridors of Atlantis yesterday.” 

Ronon gave Rodney a mild scowl as Teyla tried to unsuccessfully to hold back a light laugh…

* * *

 **“He knows,” Elizabeth** said softly and with conviction as she put the last of her camping things away.

“Probably,” John confirmed.

The Atlantean leader looked over at him, raising an eyebrow when she saw his perfect grin. 

“Elizabeth,” John said quietly when he saw her expression. He stepped away from the wall that he was leaning against and walked over to where she stood. Gently then, he slid a hand into her soft curls. 

“I don’t regret anything.”

He slid his other hand into her hair, cradling her face tenderly in his hands. “Anything,” he murmured before kissing her lightly. “Do you?” John asked, trying to brace himself for any possible answer.

“I…”

He kissed her again. 

A small smile graced Elizabeth’s face when they finally broke the kiss. She leaned her forehead against his. “Not anything that really matters,” she confessed after a moment.

John returned her smile before whispering softly, “I love you.” 

Slowly and tenderly then he began to trail warm kisses from her ear and down her neck. His hands slipped from her dark curls, down her arms, and to her hips as he gently urged Elizabeth back and toward the direction of her bed. 

“We promised Rodney that we would meet him and the others for breakfast,” she reminded him.

“So, we’ll be a little late,” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck. 

“A little late?” Elizabeth asked in an almost breathy voice. 

“Mmm,” John breathed into the curve of her neck. “Let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” he suggested then with a playfully wicked grin as he lead her to the bed. 

Elizabeth smiled in response. "Best camping trip ever," she said softly as she allowed herself to follow him...


	3. NC-17 Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NC-17 Version

The one that immediately follows is the NC-17 rated one, (silly smut)

Anyhoo: here goes:

* * *

**John Sheppard set** down his guitar case and dropped a small duffle at his feet as he stood in the open doorway of Elizabeth Weir’s office.

“So…” he drawled. “You ready?”

Elizabeth looked up from her laptop, a bemused expression coloring her face.

John gave her grin. “You didn’t forget did you?” At Elizabeth’s look, John tapped his watch. “1800 hours; work stops; camping trip begins.” 

“Ahh…” Dr. Weir replied. “No Colonel, I did not forget. I simply never agreed to a camping trip,” she reminded him in a friendly tone.

John gave her a lop-sided grin and wandered over to Elizabeth’s desk. He stepped behind her chair and leaned over her shoulder to read the open laptop screen. _“There appears to be a dedicated section of the Ancient database devoted to the application of an advanced string theory as it applies to the Ascension process. The difficulty comes with the current translation programs that we are using to decipher the Ancient language, as they seem to being having trouble with the form of Ancient being used. We would like to request your assistance to further translate…”_ John read aloud before trailing off slowly.

“Well, that can wait,” John said confidently, and boldly closed the laptop. Elizabeth gave her military commander a mild glare. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Colonel?”

“1800 hours; you’re done with work, Elizabeth, and now it’s time for a day off. When was the last time you took any time for yourself?”

“Colonel,” Elizabeth responded in soft warning.

John gave her a cocky grin. “Don’t make me drag you out of here, Elizabeth. Or worse,” he drawled, “get Carson in here. You know I will.” 

Dr. Weir gave her military commander a measuring look that John returned with a steady eye. “You know I will, Elizabeth,” he repeated in a low, gently determined voice. 

Ever so slowly, the Atlantean leader relented, finally giving a quiet sigh in acknowledgment of John’s persistence. The Colonel gave her a boyish grin and stepped back so that Elizabeth could rise out of her chair. She reached for her laptop, but John set his hand atop hers and gently caressed the warm skin beneath his thumb. 

“No work,” he insisted softly. 

For a moment, it was in Elizabeth’s eyes to protest, but then she sighed softly. John gave her hand a final caress before removing his.

“Come on, let’s go get your stuff,” the Colonel prompted, before walking over to retrieve his things from the doorway.

Elizabeth nodded briefly and together they walked in silence to her quarters.

“So what exactly do I need for this camping trip, Colonel?” Dr. Weir asked as John followed her into her room.

“Just some comfortable clothes and a willingness to relax and enjoy yourself for a few hours,” John answered with a bright grin.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in response. “I can assume everything else is taken care of then, Colonel?”

“You _could_ assume that,” John responded cheekily. 

The Atlantean leader shook her head slightly with the familiar and fond exasperation that her military commander often seemed to inspire. 

“Teyla says that it has been raining rather constantly over on the mainland,” Elizabeth said while considering a heavy sweater. “I’m not sure how appealing camping in the rain sounds.”

“Rain won’t be a problem,” John assured her. 

“We shouldn’t go off-world for this excursion, John,” Elizabeth insisted quickly. 

“Trust me, Elizabeth,” the military commander responded simply. “Trust me,” he repeated with a smile meant to charm in reply to a look from the Atlantean leader. 

Dr. Weir made no further response as she continued to pack, allowing John to take the opportunity to look around her quarters. Casually, he brushed his hand over books gathered on small shelves and tables, taking note of their titles. They seemed to be mostly history books or political treatises, as well as a few select Ancient texts. He also found a worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ tucked away amongst the other volumes, and he smiled to see a leather bound edition of Keats poetry nestled between two Ancient books. 

His gaze then fell to a small collection of photos gathered on an Atlantean desk similar to the one in her office. Here were pictures of her family and friends, mostly those from Earth, but there were also a few of her family in Atlantis. John picked up one of a brightly smiling Teyla standing with Ronon, the warrior displaying his own almost rare smile. 

“Will I need heavy boots?”

John looked up from the photos with a smile and a non-committal shrug, giving nothing away.

“I have no desire to have my feet freeze, Colonel,” she said before making a small pause, “or any other body part for that matter.”

“I’m sure that we can find some way to keep your feet warm, ‘Lizabeth,” John teased. “Or any other body part,” he added with a playful grin as he walked over to where she stood by her bed. 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she looked over to him and John laughed lightly in response. 

“Your normal shoes should be fine,” he assured her. The Colonel turned back to his quiet exploration as Elizabeth continued to pack the small duffle on her bed. He let his fingers trail over the delicate statues and vases he found, occasionally picking one up as he often did when in Elizabeth’s office. But he stopped when he found an unframed picture and a delicate dried flower tucked unobtrusively in amongst the Atlantean leader’s other person items. 

Glancing quickly back in Elizabeth’s direction then back to the photo, he picked it and the flower up in a gentle hand. It took John a moment, but he recognized the picture finally as one that Carson had taken at the celebration party shortly after they had all returned to Atlantis. In it, Elizabeth and John were dancing, and as the military commander studied the picture, he couldn’t help but be struck by how happy both he and the Atlantean leader appeared to be. 

He looked over to Elizabeth again and then turned his attention back to the small red flower in his hand. He twirled the stem thoughtfully between his fingers, thinking about when he had presented the small bloom to Elizabeth. He hadn’t known that she had kept it, and the idea that she had, did something to his pulse. Then John heard the zipper of Elizabeth’s duffle and he quickly put the flower back down. 

“Ready then?” he asked as he turned to his friend. 

“Well, ready as I can be, without knowing where we’re going,” she hinted, but John only smiled and retrieved his things. 

“We’re off then.”

Elizabeth shook her head slightly and walked out of her quarters with him. But when they didn’t walk in the direction of either the Gateroom or the Jumper bay, Elizabeth looked curiously to John as he walked next to her. He smiled and lead her to a transport.

“I told you that you wouldn’t have to worry about the rain.”

“John, you can’t be serious, we’re going camping in Atlantis?”

“Well, as you said, we shouldn’t really go off-world, and it is raining all over on the mainland.” He gave her a charming grin. “So, camping in Atlantis,” he drawled. 

The transport left them looking out into an unfamiliar hallway.

“This way.”

John lead Elizabeth down the corridor and to a closed door. He waved his hand over the blue control crystals and the door opened up onto a large domed room. In the center of the chamber, were two small camping tents and a circle of stones with what looked like wood set for a fire. All around the room, were potted plants of varying sizes, giving the chamber as much of the look of the outdoors as possible.

John grinned and walked over to a crystal panel, waving a hand over it. Above, the domed ceiling glittered with the image of a nighttime sky full of stars. 

Elizabeth looked around with a quiet smile. “You did all this?” she asked softly. She looked up. “It’s lovely.”

“All the fun of the outdoors,” he said with a grin, “with none of the bugs or rain.”

Elizabeth gave a small laugh and looked around, clearly touched by the gesture. 

“And,” John said as he walked over to the stone circle, “we even have a campfire.” He set down his duffle and his guitar case before lighting the canned heat placed safely within the cleared center of the stones and firewood. “Perfect for campfire stories, and songs,” he explained. “Or,” he drawled as he reached for something from his bag, “s’mores.” He held up a bag of marshmallows, a package of graham crackers, and a couple of chocolate bars.

“And you don’t want to know what I had to give Rodney for this stuff.” He opened the bag of marshmallows.

“I’ve never actually had s’mores,” Elizabeth confessed as she joined John by the campfire, setting her duffle down next to his.

The Colonel gave her an incredulous look. “You’re kidding. How can you have never had s’mores? Next you’re going to tell me you never went camping as a kid either.”

Elizabeth shrugged lightly.

“You’re not kidding.” John shook his head slightly. “Well then, I don’t feel quite as bad about what I had to do to wrangle this stuff from, McKay. We can’t allow this to continue; you never having had a s’more.”

John deftly skewered a marshmallow on a stick. “Now,” he began. “First, you have to toast the marshmallow to a nice golden brown.” He proceeded to demonstrate.

“Then,” he continued, “you have to slide the marshmallow off of the stick and onto your graham cracker with the chocolate. That’s the tricky part.” 

Elizabeth smiled as she watched John, amused by the intense look of concentration on his face.

“And _ta da_ , you have your first s’more.” He grinned as if he had just completed a culinary masterpiece. “Here,” he offered her the treat. “Go on, you’ll love it,” he assured her when she looked at the s’more somewhat dubiously. 

Slowly, she took a small bite and smiled when the warm chocolate melted over her tongue. “It is good.” She took another bite and John found himself suddenly fascinated with Elizabeth’s mouth and the quick darts of her tongue. Then, impulsively, he reached over to brush at her lip where there was a small bit of melted chocolate. For a moment, his thumb lingered on her lower lip as her eyes caught and held his. 

“Chocolate,” John explained in a somewhat husky voice as he removed his hand.

“Oh,” Elizabeth half spoke, half sighed. 

The Colonel shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it, and Elizabeth herself took a few quick deep breathes. She licked her lips, and John watched with wide eyes, almost overwhelmingly moved by the gesture. 

He felt the urge to reach over to Elizabeth again and before he could follow through with the persistent impulse, he ducked his eyes away. “Umm, campfire stories next?” John asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“I’ve _seen_ your campfire stories, Colonel…” Elizabeth replied, catching gracefully at the turn in the conversation. “ _Friday the Thirteenth_ … or will it be _The Princess Bride_?” She said with a smile, reminding him of the times that he had entertained the Athosian children.

“Classics,” John insisted before suddenly taking on a comically serious pose. “Wuv…twue wuv… is what bwings us toogewether today,” he quoted happily. 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay,” he laughed. “Okay… no campfire stories.”

For a few moments then, they sat in a building silence, slowly returning to an intense awareness of each other until John asked, “If you didn’t have s’mores as a kid, or go camping, what _did_ little Lizzie do?”

“For one thing, I wasn’t called little Lizzie,” Elizabeth replied with a slight grin. 

“Oh?” John asked, obviously curious.

“My father liked to take me to museums, art galleries, and libraries,” Elizabeth’s smile turned fond with remembrance. 

“Libraries?” John asked with amusement.

The Atlantean leader turned to look at him. “Yes, libraries,” she replied with a soft smile curving her lips. “He liked to share his love of art, history, and language with me. And he was a diplomat, so there was really only so much time that we could spend together. Our trips were his way of showing me how much he loved me, even when he couldn’t say it.”

John watched Elizabeth, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I still remember when he was working in Paris and took me to the Orangerie Museum. We saw one of Monet’s paintings of the water lilies.” Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I couldn’t have been more than five or six, and the painting was just begging to be touched.”

John grinned, imagining a small Elizabeth, boldly reaching for the priceless painting with a small, curious hand.

“He stopped me of course, but after that, my father called me, Lily. And when he started to do that, the rest of my family and close friends did too.” She paused, silent for a moment, before saying softly, “But no one has called me Lily since he died. Sometimes I miss it. Sometimes, it feels like Elizabeth is… who I _have_ to be, and Lily is…” she trailed off softly before looking over to John.

“But you,” she prompted, deftly turning the attention to her military commander. “While I was busy visiting art museums as a child,” she grinned, “you were learning how to camp and make s’mores?” She looked over to the waiting guitar case a moment, before looking back to John, “And to play?”

John gave her a boyish grin. 

“You did mention campfire songs,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“I did,” he agreed. 

She settled back, waiting patiently. Eventually, John gave her one of his customary grins and reached for the guitar case. Almost reverently, he opened it and took out his instrument. Settling it carefully in his lap, he placed his fingers to the frets. 

“My brother was pretty good, and he’s the one that taught me,” John offered a bit of his own history. “But keep in mind, I’m no Johnny Cash,” he warned her with a lop-sided smile.

“Duly noted, Colonel,” Elizabeth responded lightly. 

Slowly, John began to play. At first there was no real melody, just soft chords and notes as he let his fingers wander, as if seeking out the song. But as Elizabeth listened, the random harmonies started to form themselves into a quiet, simple tune. And she watched John’s fingers, finding herself almost mesmerized by their previously unnoticed grace. It was unexpectedly moving, to watch his hands coax the sweetly romantic melody from his guitar. And unbidden, the thought of what else he might do with those hands brought a deep, warm feeling to the flutter in her stomach and suffused her limbs with a languid sort of heat. 

Then he began to sing, and Elizabeth’s eyes moved almost instinctively to John’s lips. 

“ _Like red on a rose_ ,” he sang softly, his voice deep, almost caressing the notes. “ _When your lips first smiled at me_.”

Elizabeth couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of John’s mouth. His wasn’t a pitch perfect voice, but what John lacked in such perfection, he more than made up for in tenderness and truth. 

“ _I fell so easily, wishing you were my own_ ,” the words tumbled from his lips with a soft country melody. “ _Like green in the sea, when your eyes looked at me_.”

Elizabeth’s ocean green eyes flew upwards to meet John’s. He returned her look without any hesitation. “ _And touched something deep inside. Then let the truth be known… That I love you, like only the springtime loves the rain. And I love you, ‘cause I know that I can’t do anything wrong. You’re where I belong, like red on a rose_.”

Elizabeth finally ducked her eyes away from John, overwhelmed by the clear and honest emotion in his eyes. She watched his hands instead as they deftly played along the strings, finding the notes with unerring grace. 

“ _And I love you, like only the springtime loves the rain. And I love you, like a wanderer finding his way home. And I love you, ‘cause I know you give me a heart of my own_.” 

John’s voice dropped low and very intimate, drawing Elizabeth’s eyes back up to his own “ _You make my blood flow… like red on a rose… like red on a rose_.”

“John?” Elizabeth asked softly with an almost uncertain and uncharacteristically hesitant note to her voice. 

John’s fingers stilled on the strings of his guitar and he set it aside. “Elizabeth,” he said quietly. “Elizabeth, I think I need to kiss you now.” He waited a moment, then reached for her, cradling her face gently in his hands. “I need to kiss you,” he breathed along her skin.

And then, he did. 

For a moment, there was nothing but stillness, and then, in an instant, everything was happening at once. John was pulling Elizabeth to him. She was reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair. His heart was thundering in his chest, and her pulse was racing to match itself to his. They were suddenly each breathing the other in, near desperate to express everything all at once. 

It wasn’t enough.

It was too much.

“John,” Elizabeth gasped finally. “John…”

She pushed gently against him, her palms flat on his chest. And John pulled back, looking at her with passion dazed eyes.

“Elizabeth,” he responded breathlessly, holding her now dark green gaze with his own. “Elizabeth, are you… why are you…”

“No,” John said suddenly. “No,” John reached for her as Elizabeth started to pull away, holding her gently, but firmly in place. “You want this as much as I do.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, John.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” he said fiercely. “Because you have to know that this doesn’t just come around everyday.”

“This?” Elizabeth asked, her voice a tumult of hope and trepidation.

“This,” John said before slowly pulling her to him and cradling her face in his hands. “This,” he murmured again, resting his forehead against hers. “And don’t tell me that it doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me that you don’t need it, want it, every bit as much as I do, because even you can’t convince me of that.” 

For a moment they remained like that, and then John whispered, almost too softly for Elizabeth to hear, “I love you.” He held onto her in silence, nearly trembling.

“Love, true love, is what brings us together, today,” Elizabeth quoted finally in a quiet, giddy voice. 

For a moment, there was silence again. Then suddenly, John laughed in an almost overwhelming release of emotion. When it finally passed, the Colonel pulled Elizabeth into a tight embrace, whispering into her hair, “Yes…oh, yes…”

The Atlantean leader gave a brief, giddy laugh before saying in a serious gasp, “Oh God, this is going to be so unbelievably complicated.” 

John pulled back slightly so that he could look into her eyes. “Not in the things that really matter.” 

“Not in the things that really matter,” she agreed, kissing him. 

“This is the best camping trip ever,” John said with a cocky grin when they finally took a moment to breathe.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head fondly, before giving into the impulse to laugh lightly, “John…”

He gave her a questioning look. 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“As you wish…”

* * *

**John brushed his** lips softly over Elizabeth’s; once, twice, tasting the shape of her desire before falling into the kiss with her. He coaxed her then into a slow, sweet dance of lips, tongue, and entwined breaths. His hands slid to Elizabeth’s waist and his fingers slipped up under the hem of her red shirt, seeking the warmth of her skin.

Elizabeth responded by tangling her fingers in John’s hair, raising her arms up to do so, and exposing still more skin for his eager exploration. She sighed softly when his thumbs started to rub small circles, sending a trembling wash of sensation over her. And when he started to trail warm kisses from her lips, along her chin, and to her throat, Elizabeth moaned. 

“Yes,” John gasped, nuzzling her neck and nipping lightly. “This?” He suckled the warm skin beneath his lips, encouraged by her gasp of assent. “This?” He slipped the shoulder of her shirt aside so that he could kiss the skin there. 

“John?”

“Mmm?” He murmured into the curve of her shoulder, sending shivers through her.

“How secure is that door?”

John met her eyes, and what he saw made him slowly smile. He got up and walked over to the crystal control panel. Deftly, he removed the middle one and returned with it to where Elizabeth waited.

“This secure,” he answered her. Then he flashed her a charmingly seductive grin that she responded to with one of her own as he joined her. John turned the crystal in his hand, considering it a moment, before looking back over to Elizabeth, a quiet look in his eyes. “Are you… we don’t…” he asked in a soft, sincere voice. 

She reached slowly for the crystal in his hands, trailing her fingers over his. Without looking away from his eyes, she set it aside and brought her lips back to his. 

“This?” She asked finally as she began to mimic what he had done, trailing her lips from his to nuzzle at his neck. “This?” She moved the fabric of his black shirt aside so she could kiss the warm skin of his shoulder. “And this?” she asked in a low whisper as her fingers went to the small zipper of his black shirt, slowly undoing it so that she could kiss the flesh she exposed. Then her hands continued their path down the smooth fabric of his shirt and slipped under the hem. She slid them upwards once more underneath the fabric, lifting it as she caressed the skin beneath. 

“Or this?” she teased once she had his shirt off and could run her fingertips freely along the strong planes of his chest. 

“You,” he finally said in a low voice that sent a tingle shivering up and down her spine. “For so long, you,” he repeated. 

Elizabeth smiled, pulling back enough to be able to lift her own shirt up and over her head as John watched with admiring eyes. Under his heated gaze, she continued by slowly divesting herself of her bra and then standing up so that she could remove the remainder of her clothing. 

John let his gaze caress her then, touching every part of her, near reverent in his regard. Elizabeth shivered under the honest ardor of it, feeling her skin flush as his eyes brushed over the curve of her breast, to the planes of her stomach, and along the length of her leg. The undisguised devotion and admiration in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her and Elizabeth felt her pulse racing in response.

John smiled when he saw how he was effecting her. 

“How _do_ you do that?” 

John’s smile turned pleasantly wicked as he rose, still caressing her with his eyes but not yet moving to touch her. “Do what?” he asked in a teasingly innocent voice. 

“John,” she protested mildly. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said in soft response. He stepped closer, still not touching. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” 

“John.” 

He ghosted his right hand over Elizabeth’s hair, not touching, but shadowing a caress of brushing her hair back. “I like it longer,” he said quietly. “I like the way it curls along your neck.”

John ghosted another caress above the skin of her neck even as she titled her head in response. And he continued, brushing the air above her shoulder before moving slowly to stand behind her. 

“John what are you…”

“And your shoulders,” he murmured bringing his other hand up. Then, still holding his hands just above her skin, he traced the full curves of her breasts, his fingers so near that she could feel the trailing warm of them tantalizingly close. He shadowed a caress of her nipples, but before Elizabeth could think to arch into his touch, his hands had already began to move. 

“John,” she protested softly, feeling his smile, even though she couldn’t see it.

He wound a slow path down her body and let his hands hover in the air above her stomach, his fingertips circling above her navel. And again, Elizabeth tried to move into his touch, but suddenly John’s hands were moving, making their way to her hips.

Elizabeth made a small sound of protest, even as his hands raised goose bumps along her skin. She could feel the warmth of his not quite touch as it trailed sidewise and followed the curve of her hips around to the small of her back. 

John gave a quick, almost surprised laugh. “Lizabeth, you have a tattoo?” 

She could feel his fingertips near her skin, tracing the air over the small blue-gray feather. He watched her skin flush and he smiled.

“University,” Elizabeth explained, her voice tinged with a quiet sense of embarrassment. “I… there was…” she paused when she felt John kneel behind her. Then she gasped as she finally felt him touch her. Ever so slowly, he began to trace the dark lines of her small tattoo with his tongue. And when he added gentle nips to what he was doing with his mouth, Elizabeth inhaled in another ragged sort of gasp.

“Beautiful,” he breathed into her skin before kissing his way up her spine and ending with the soft curve of her neck. He nuzzled her and slid his hands to her hips as she leaned back into him finally. “Do you know just how beautiful you are?” he asked again.

“Show me?” 

Elizabeth felt John smile into the warmth of her shoulder. He moved his hands slowly up the subtle lines and planes of her body, leaving a tingling heat in their wake. When he reached her breasts, his hands caressed their rich curves until he could brush his fingertips against her nipples. He smiled again when his lover sighed, finally able to arch into his touch. 

“Like this?”

Elizabeth made a soft moan, tilting her head back against John’s shoulder as he played his fingers along her skin. She blissfully closed her eyes as one of his hands slipped from her breast and trailed slowly down. When his fingers brushed over her soft curls, Elizabeth’s eyes suddenly flew open and she gasped. Her hands went back, clutching tightly to the fabric of his pant legs. 

“John…” she half-gasped, half-sighed. It turned into a moan when his fingers found just the right spot to make her hips rock against him. Her eyes slid shut again as she lost herself in the feel of John’s fingers inside her. “John… I…”

“I have you,” he murmured as he held her tightly against him, supporting her weight as her knees went weak. “I have you,” he repeated softly into her ear.

“Ahhh… ahhh… mmm…” she gasped, shivering against him, clenching and unclenching her fists in the fabric of his pants. 

John continued until Elizabeth’s breathing became ragged and then finally a soft, sighing moan as her body tightened in response to his touch. She rocked hard against his hand, shuddering, as John slowly lowered them both to the ground and knelt behind her. Elizabeth relaxed against him as a languid, warm feeling suffused her limbs. And when John grinned against the curve of her shoulder Elizabeth felt as if her whole body was smiling in response. 

Slowly, she turned in his arms, facing him. A quiet smile graced her lips as she urged him to lay back. She slid her hands up the dark fabric of his pants and finally stopped at the taut waistband. Then Elizabeth dipped her fingers beneath the fabric, teasing, as she ran her hands along his stomach. Ever so slowly, she unzipped his pants and John rocked his hips up, letting Elizabeth slide them down. 

Once his pants were off, Elizabeth started the slow slide back up his legs. Once she reached the lower hems of his blue stripped boxers, she gave John a wicked grin and slipped her hands underneath. Her fingertips were light and teasing, playing along his inner thighs, but never quite touching the erection straining at the fabric of his boxers. 

“Elizabeth…” John groaned, his voice low and ragged. 

She smiled and slipped her hands free, sliding them, and herself, up his body. She settled herself by straddling his hips and laying her hands flat on his chest. Her fingers played lightly with his nipples and he moaned softly, even as Elizabeth captured the moan with a kiss. 

John rocked his hips and Elizabeth matched the movement. He moaned into their kiss again, and again, he rocked up while she moved with him. For a moment, they teased each other, and then she rose, finally breaking their kiss. Elizabeth looked down into John’s eyes, letting herself meet and match the open vulnerability she saw there. 

She took a deep breath, “I love you.”

The smile that graced his face was brighter than anything she had ever seen, and again, the depth of emotion in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her. She kissed him as they rolled and John brought her underneath him. She helped him free of the remainder of his clothing before welcoming the weight of him above her.

Elizabeth reached her hands up to cradle his face. “You’re so wonderful, do you know that?”

John grinned and leaned down to kiss her. “I love you.” 

“Show me?” She prompted, rocking her hips against him.

He brushed his lips over hers again, tasting and teasing as he ever so slowly slid into her, his eyes closing as the sensation nearly undid him. Together they began to move, seeking their own rhythm in the primordial dance of bodies and souls. It wasn’t like some beautifully lit scene from a movie, perfect and artificial, but it was real, and tender, and perfect in it's love. 

John moved in Elizabeth with something approaching reverence and she wrapped herself around him with all the desire and longing in her heart.

“God, _‘Lizabeth_ ,” John moaned as they moved closer and closer to the shimmering edge that beckoned to them. His voice became a low, wordless growl when Elizabeth clenched and unclenched her hands, digging her fingertips into his shoulders as she tightened around him. He only found words again when he met her eyes, his green gaze intense. 

“Oh God, _‘Lizabeth_ , I love you.” 

“Yes…” Elizabeth gasped, throwing her head back as the first waves of her climax washed over her. “Yes…please… John… oh God, I love you…” She tightened around him, meeting him trust for thrust. “Ahhh… ahhh… mmm…” her breath finally went ragged and wild.

John stilled a moment, buried deeply in Elizabeth. He hovered above her, watching her face as she climaxed, and was convinced that he had never seen anything more gorgeous in his life.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, feeling the words resonating through his whole body. But again, he felt words become nothing more than pleasured sounds just as he felt her completely tighten around him, pulling him over the taut, shimmering edge with her. And for a moment, they merged; breath, body, and soul.

Coming back was slow and quiet as John slipped free and moved into Elizabeth’s open arms. They kissed softly, a mere brush of lips as they felt their heartbeats fall back together in a more languid cadence. 

“John? Are you all right?” Elizabeth asked in a quiet voice. “Are you shaking?”

“No,” he insisted, trembling in her arms a moment.

“You are,” she replied gently. “You’re cold.” Elizabeth reached for the edge of the blanket spread out beneath them. 

“I don’t think I am,” John replied, even as another tremor shivered along his body.

“Then why are you shaking?” she responded softly, pulling the blanket up over them both and tenderly covering John as much as she could with the warmth of the green fabric. 

“I don't know,” he answered. “I think I’m having a Lloyd Dobler moment,” he continued, flashing her a boyishly charming smile.

“A Lloyd Dobler moment?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

John chuckled softly. “I’m just happy,” he clarified, still shaking softly as he pulled Elizabeth into a tighter embrace, shifting so that she was cradled against his chest. He brushed another kiss along her hair. “Amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly happy.” 

Elizabeth smiled against the warmth of his chest. She slid up slightly to kiss him, letting their breath entwine a moment. “I’m happy too,” she said quietly when they parted. 

John set his lips softly to Elizabeth’s forehead as she tucked herself tightly into his embrace and started to tremble slightly herself. He smiled softly against her skin. “Any minute, one of us is going to break out into poetry or song,” he teased. “Oh wait, I already did that.” 

“I like that you’re a hopeless romantic,” Elizabeth confessed, tilting her head to look into his eyes. 

John grinned. “Only where you’re concerned.”

“And I like that you’re concerned with me.” 

“Oh there’s a whole lot of _concern_ ,” John replied with a lop-sided grin. “ _A lot of concern_ ,” he drawled low and tender, sending a shiver up Elizabeth’s spine. “And I plan on showing you that everyday that I can.”

She gave him a slow, teasing smile as she kissed him. “I’d like that.” She kissed him again. “And John… just so you know… I’m a hopeless romantic too.”

“I know,” John replied with a cheeky grin…

* * *

**Elizabeth sighed softly** as her eyes fell shut and she felt her hand loosen its tenuous grip on the rolled sleeping bag that she held. It hit the floor near her feet with a soft thump, as unnoticed as the rest of the half-packed campsite around her. John knelt in front of her, his hands splayed on her hips as he nosed aside the red fabric of her shirt. But the pair froze when they heard Rodney’s muffled voice just outside of the door.

“Sheppard?”

Elizabeth felt, more than heard John swear, his breath warm against her stomach. 

“Elizabeth?”

The Atlantean leader held back her own swear as she heard Dr. McKay’s call. 

“Are you in there?”

“Don’t say anything, maybe he’ll go away,” John suggested.

“John, we should…” Elizabeth began to reply before suddenly gasping as John’s tongue circled her navel. She buried her hands in his unruly, dark hair, her gasp becoming a quiet moan. But she stopped him as he started to lift the fabric of her shirt up higher. 

“John…”

He rose, meeting Elizabeth’s passion darkened eyes.

“He’ll go away,” the colonel insisted, coaxing her into a kiss.

“Major Lorne said that he thought he saw you both come this way last night for your little camping trip,” Dr. McKay called again from the other side of the gym door.

“John… he’s not… going away…” Elizabeth said between kisses.

“He… will…” 

“It could be important,” the Atlantean leader insisted.

“It’s not,” her lover assured her, grasping Elizabeth’s hips and pulling her tight against him.

“How do you…” she half-gasped as John trailed his kisses to her ear, nipping the lobe lightly.

“He doesn’t have _‘panicked Rodney voice_ ,” the colonel answered her half asked question. “Just, _‘impatient McKay voice_ ,” he explained before rocking his hips against hers and muffling her moan with a kiss. 

“He’s probably wrong of course,” Rodney called as loudly as he could in the distance.

John walked Elizabeth to a nearby wall, pressing her back against it. He slid his hands into hers and brought her arms up above her head. His hips continued to rock against hers and she moved with him, sliding a leg up and wrapping it around him. 

“He’ll go away,” John repeated before bringing his lips to Elizabeth’s neck.

She bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan. 

“And if you were really in there, you’d answer, right?” Dr. McKay’s muffled voice continued. 

Elizabeth tilted her head, giving John better access, even as she knew that what he was doing was almost assuredly going to leave a mark. 

“I want you,” John murmured against her warm skin. He slipped his hands from hers and slid them down her arms. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” Elizabeth responded.

“Like I said, too long.”

John’s warm touch trailed down her sides and to the hem of her shirt. He slipped his fingertips under the fabric. The rest of his hands followed, moving up her sides to caress her lace covered breasts.

“Unless you were hurt somehow,” Rodney called abruptly. Suddenly, John and Elizabeth froze again as they heard loud noises from the other side of the gym door. “Are you hurt?” Even muffled, his voice took on a slight note of panic. 

“The door’s not opening.” From the outside, they heard more loud sounds as if Rodney were now working on the door mechanism. 

“He’s going to open the door,” Elizabeth said.

“We disabled it,” John countered.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, then turned wide eyes in the direction of the door as it slid open the fraction of an inch. “Oh God.”

They leapt away from each other, desperately trying to set themselves to rights.

“Sheppard?” Rodney called, his voice louder now that the door was opening slowly. “Elizabeth?” He practically ran into the room as the door suddenly opened. “Are you two…” Rodney began to ask in a worried voice, “…okay?” His voice trailed off as he saw the pair and slowed to a stop.

Elizabeth tried to straighten her shirt as surreptitiously as possible. “Of course, Rodney.”

Dr. McKay eyed the pair. “The door wasn’t opening,” he said unnecessarily. 

“Well, it’s fixed now, and since you’re here McKay, how ‘bout leading a hand with all this stuff?” John said, trying to cover. 

Colonel Sheppard scooped a rolled sleeping bag up and tossed it in Rodney’s direction. The astrophysicist fumbled with it a bit before finally getting a hold of one of the ties. He glared in John’s direction a moment.

John flashed him a friendly grin. “Thanks, McKay.” 

Rodney muttered something underneath his breath, but proceeded to help gather up the camping gear…

* * *

**“And there was** a mark on her neck,” Rodney elaborated, gesturing vaguely to indicate the spot somewhere on his own neck.

“Rodney,” Teyla chided in a mild tone. “I am not certain that we should be discussing this. Whatever may or may not have happened last night is between John and Elizabeth.”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? There’s always been something between them. I mean, even Zalenka sees it. And Kate, Dr. Heightmeyer, she says that there are sparks whenever they’re in a room together.”

“Rodney…” the Athosian leader tried once more.

“I’m just saying…”

“Why does it matter so much to you, McKay?” Ronon asked, interrupting him.

“What?” 

“Why do you care so much? What does it matter if something happened between them last night? It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Teyla gave Ronon a look.

“What?” he asked, shrugging. “McKay’s right.”

Rodney suddenly developed a very smug expression. 

“We all know they’ve been dancing around each other for years, at least they have been ever since I’ve been here.”

“Since they met,” Rodney asserted. “Since Antarctica, I’m certain.”

“The point is, what does it matter to you?”

Even Teyla had begun to look quietly interested in her teammate’s answer.

“Well… I… that is…” Dr. McKay tripped over his words. “Anyone could see…”

Rodney half-ducked his head. “Because it gives me hope,” he mumbled almost underneath his breath. 

“What?” Teyla prompted despite herself. 

Rodney looked back up. “Because it gives me hope, okay?” He repeated in a rush of breath, clearly uncomfortable with his unexpected confession. “They belong together, we’ve all seen it for years. And if they’ve finally seen it… finally let themselves…” He trailed off when he met Teyla’s dark eyes. “It just gives me hope.” He looked away after a moment. 

Ronon made a small sound of amusement. “Who would have thought you were a romantic, McKay.” 

“If I am,” he countered, “I’m not the only one. I have it on good authority that a certain Satedan was seen helping Colonel Sheppard move several potted plants through the corridors of Atlantis yesterday.” 

Ronon gave Rodney a mild scowl as Teyla tried to unsuccessfully to hold back a light laugh…

* * *

**“He knows,” Elizabeth** said softly and with conviction as she put the last of her camping things away.

“Probably,” John confirmed.

The Atlantean leader looked over at him, raising an eyebrow when she saw his perfect grin. 

“Elizabeth,” John said quietly when he saw her expression. He stepped away from the wall that he was leaning against and walked over to where she stood. Gently then, he slid a hand into her soft curls. 

“I don’t regret anything.”

He slid his other hand into her hair, cradling her face tenderly in his hands. “ _Anything_ ,” he murmured before kissing her lightly. “Do you?” John asked, trying to brace himself for any possible answer.

“I…”

He kissed her again. 

A small smile graced Elizabeth’s face when they finally broke the kiss. She leaned her forehead against his. “Not anything that really matters,” she confessed after a moment.

John returned her smile before whispering softly, “I love you.” 

Slowly and tenderly then he began to trail warm kisses from her ear and down her neck. His hands slipped from her dark curls, down her arms, and to her hips as he gently urged Elizabeth back and toward the direction of her bed. 

“We promised Rodney that we would meet him and the others for breakfast,” she reminded him.

“So, we’ll be a little late,” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck. 

“A little late?” Elizabeth asked in an almost breathy voice. 

“Mmm,” John breathed into the curve of her neck. “Let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” he suggested then with a playfully wicked grin as he lead her to the bed. 

Elizabeth smiled in response. "Best camping trip ever," she said softly as she allowed herself to follow him...">


End file.
